Chapter Text
Dirk was raised on a small ranch in the country of Florin by his older brothers. His favorite pastimes were taking care of the horses, and tormenting the farm boy who worked there. His name was Jake, but Dirk never called him that.
Ain’t that just a great beginning?
Dirk always took great pleasure in bossing Jake around. Tall, handsome Jake, with the brilliant smile. Not that Dirk was paying attention.
“Farm boy.”
Dirk had just returned from a ride. He thought himself at least somewhat fair, golden hair and eyes to match, freckles dotting his face. He hitched his horse to the post and stood up straight, trying to make himself more stern and intimidating. Seemingly, Jake looked up from where he was forking hay into a trough. In reality, he had already been looking.
“Yes?”
Dirk’s voice caught in his throat. He didn’t know why.
“Polish my saddle until it shines,” he said, regaining his haughty composure, “I want to be able to see my face in it by morning.”
Jake never complained. He never protested or told Dirk to do it instead. He leaned against his pitchfork, and spoke the same three words he always did when Dirk gave him an order.
"As you wish." It was all he’d say when ordered around.
“Farm boy, get some water from the well.” The light caught on Jake’s hair. There was plenty of water in the jugs, and both of them knew this.
“As you wish.”
“Farm boy, muck out this stable.” The way Jake leaned against the broom. The stable was already spotless.
“As you wish."
“Farm boy,” Dirk called, as Jake walked into the kitchen. It was a lovely spring day. Jake looked at him, expression soft. Dirk’s breath caught in his chest; he glanced around quickly for something to order Jake to do. There was nothing. Nothing but a jug, hanging on a hook above his head, easily in reach. “Fetch… me that pitcher?” It wasn’t an order.
Jake stepped forward, into Dirk’s space, holding his gaze as he reached up and grabbed the jug. He took it down, and pressed it into Dirk’s hands.
“As you wish.”
It was at that moment that Dirk realized; whenever Jake said, “As you wish,” what he really meant was, “I love you.” And after much thinking, Dirk realized something more. He loved Jake just as much.
Their romance blossomed, the spring turned warm and to summer and to a year and further still. But it could not all be perfect springs and summers. Eventually, Jake left. He was to set out in the morning, hoping to find his fortune upon the seas.
“Do you really have to leave?” Dirk asked, the eve of Jake’s departure.
“I’m sorry,” said Jake, holding him close, “Don’t fret, though. I’ll find my fortune and bring it back to you. And we can finally leave this farm and all of your brothers’ teasing.” He brushed a tear from Dirk’s cheek. “What is it?”
“I’m worried I’ll never see you again.”
“You will. I’ll return within the year. You won’t be able to get rid of me that easily.” He kissed Dirk, softly. “You won’t even notice I’m gone.”
He did not return. Five years passed.
Dirk wondered how he got in this situation. He wondered, really, where his life went wrong. Was it when Jake left? No, not exactly.
Jake left and promised to be back within the year. It was only when a letter arrived, informing Dirk that Jake’s ship had been attacked by the Dread Pirate English, that things had gone wrong. English never took captives. Dirk was inconsolable. He didn’t sleep, he barely ate, he rarely left his room. Day by day, his brothers convinced him to get out, to see the sun, to get some rest, but he never got over the loss. Five years passed in agonizing monotony. It would likely be the rest of his life.
At the moment, however, he was sitting on a stump with a knife to his neck, blindfolded and bound, waiting for a man who had been following his captors to arrive. His captors, who had recognized him as Prince Caliborn’s betrothed and kidnapped him. They planned to kill him on the border of Guilder, Florin’s most sworn enemy. Such a thing would surely be an act of war. The ship started following them, a small thing with no identifiable markers. It didn’t even have a name. The man on the ship, masked and clad all in black, had followed behind, climbing the rope up the Cliffs of Insanity (“So named,” remarked his captor, a stout woman named Jane, “because anyone would be insane to try and climb them without proper equipment!”) after their party. Jane cut the rope once they reached the top, but left her swordsman, Roxy, to guard. Just in case, she’d said.
She’d left Calliope, a giant of a woman with a shock of white hair, further on to ambush him with her strength, in case the man in black managed to best Roxy. And she’d taken Dirk further into the fields, settling under a large tree. Then she blindfolded him, and set out a table.
And now, he was waiting.
“Hm,” Jane sniffed, after some time. She turned to Dirk. “It seems your savior has gotten this far. He won’t be able to get past me, however. Foolish of him.” She sighed, and then chuckled. “I hate to say it, Highness, but the chances of you getting out of this whole situation alive have been fully diminished.”
The man in black approached the table.
“Don’t get any closer,” Jane warned, pressing the blade harder against Dirk. He felt the sting of broken skin and a drop of blood trace his neck, but did not make a sound. “Or he’ll get it.”
“I won’t be able to convince you, will I?” the man in black said.
“Not a chance,” said Jane, “Now. Sit. Have a drink with me.”
Dirk did not see whatever antics they got into. The man in black proposed drugging one of their drinks. If he drank the drugged drink, he’d fall unconscious and Jane would get away with Dirk. If Jane drank the drugged drink, she’d fall unconscious and Dirk would have a new captor. He didn’t know which option he preferred. Jane distracted the man. He heard the rustle of cloth, and the man give a toast. Jane started to laugh.
“I can’t believe you fell for it! You’re doomed! And so is his Highness here! While you weren’t looking, I switched our drinks!” Her laugh turned into a cackle and abruptly paused. The knife fell away. So did Jane.
Dirk did not expect the day to be so bright, when the man in black removed his blindfold. He could tell nearly nothing about him, other than his strong jawline and green eyes. He would not get his hopes up.
“Come on now, up,” said the man, untying Dirk’s hands and pulling him roughly to his feet, “The prince’s forces will be hot on our tail, we best not dawdle.”
“And what are you going to do with me?” Dirk sneered, stumbling as the man began to briskly walk with Dirk tugged behind, “Kill me and leave me at the Guilder border like those wannabe assassins did? Seems like a lot of trouble to go through for the same damn result. Maybe a little glory.” The man said nothing, pulling him through the meadow and to the top of a hill. All the while, Dirk continued to berate him. “It won’t do any good! Killing me will only set off war. But I suppose that’s what you want, isn’t it, war and destruction. It’s what pirates want, isn’t it? You certainly look like a pirate.”
The man stopped, turning around and looking at Dirk sharply.
“That’s right, Highness,” he said, hand still tight around Dirk’s wrist, “I am a pirate. The Dread Pirate English.” Dirk felt ice freeze his heart in fear, and then melt with the white-hot rage inside him. “So perhaps you’ll think twice about insulting me.”
“Oh, I’ve heard all about you, you’re the one who attacks sailing ships and kills the merchants on board,” Dirk said, pulling his hand out of English’s grip; English held tight, “And once my fiance catches you - like you said, he following close behind us - he’ll have you hanged.”
“Tell me, Highness, when you discovered that your first beloved died, how long did you wait to get engaged? A week? A month?” Shocked, Dirk took a step back, pulling his hand away again. English let him. He looked at English with wide eyes, heart hammering.
“How dare you,” he said, voice low and getting louder, “How dare you! I died that day! Do you think I want to be engaged to this shitstain prince? Do you think I had a fucking choice?” He crossed his arms, glaring at English. “I would feel nothing if you died. Make it easier for the archers. Just keel over, why don’t you!”
With that, Dirk stormed forward, shoving English as hard as he could. The pirate stumbled back, back, and disappeared down the hill. As he rolled, he called back, “As… you… wish!”
Horror took Dirk’s heart again. Horror and relief.
“Jake,” he breathed, looking over and seeing Prince Caliborn’s forces on the horizon, “You’d better not be fucking dead.” And he threw himself down the hill after him.
The world dissolved into a shitty transition effect in a fourth-grader’s first Powerpoint. Green and blue swirling around, around, around, as he rolled down the hill. Hay in his mouth, dirt on his riding clothes, sticks in his hair. A wild fuckin’ headache to boot. He reached the bottom of the hill, head spinning, and stumbled over to where Jake lay. His mask had come down during the fall, revealing dark hair tousled the same way Dirk’s was. Dirk fell to his knees beside him, taking Jake’s face in his hands and kissing him, over and over again.
“Yes, yes- ack--” Jake said, wriggling, “Let me up now, love, I can’t exactly move.” Dirk pulled back, sheepish, grinning at him. Jake sat up, and tugged him in for another peck. “There we go.”
“Why didn’t you just tell me?” Dirk asked, helping Jake up and hugging him. Jake held him close, brushing the twigs from Dirk’s hair.
“Well, wouldn’t that ruin the fun?”
The fun was going to be ruined, either way. At the top of the hill, Prince Caliborn’s forces arrived. At their head was the prince himself, rosy-cheeked and bad of attitude.
“You!” Prince Caliborn called, “Surrender!”
“You’re surrendering?” Jake called back. He gave a small bow. “Then I accept.”
“No!” said Caliborn, “You need to surrender to me! Hand over my fiance and you will not be harmed.”
“I don’t think so,” said Jake. The archers drew their arrows. Dirk stood in front of Jake, shielding him. “Ha! Try to shoot at me, and you’ll just hit your betrothed! You wouldn’t dare.” Jake chuckled, leaning in to murmur in Dirk’s ear. “Stay behind me. I’m going to lead us towards the fire swamp.”
“The fucking what?” Dirk hissed, but Jake was already leading the way, “Jake, where going where?”
“The fire swamp! See, just ahead.” And onward they traversed. Once the prince’s forces were out of sight, Jake relaxed. “Alright. Phew. What a piece of work he is.”
“Fuckin’ tell me about it. I barely even know how we got engaged.”
...Huh. Dirk couldn’t remember getting engaged to Caliborn. They continued to walk. Dirk heard a popping noise, and a gout of flame burst up from the ground. He threw an arm out, catching Jake’s chest.
“Ah! So that’s why they call it the fire swamp!” Jake said, delighted, “I was wondering when that would come up!” Dirk had to pause, again.
“Hold on. Wait. You know why it’s called the fire swamp, it’s because there’s fire, but you didn’t know how the fire appeared? You didn’t do any research about it or anything?”
“Well--” Jake rubbed the back of his neck, briefly… breaking character? “There isn’t exactly much time to read on- on the high seas, now, is there?”
“I just- I feel like this is something we’d know already.” Dirk pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to make sense of this. “It’s called the fire swamp, Jake, c’mon.”
“Diiiirk, I wasn’t exactly studyiiiiing,” Jake whines, “I was thinking more about rescuing you! You know, be the big dramatic hero and save you and then you wake up and think it was a wonderfully poetic dream.”
“What?”
Jake flushed. Caught in the trap. Suddenly, the trees looked more like cardboard, the vines like yarn. Jake had been in all black a moment ago, but now he was in a t-shirt and shorts. Dirk looked down; he was also in his normal clothes.
“Uh. You got me?” Jake said, like it was a question, “Oh, Dirk, come on. It’s the Princess Bride! Adventure! Fun! Action! Romance!”
“Why did you make Roxy and Callie Inigo and Fezzik, though? Why not, like, Dave and Karkat?”
“They were going to be Miracle Max and Valerie! It would have been a riot!” Jake groaned, leaning against a shitty cardboard tree. “Ugh, I was going to save you, it would have been excellent.”
“That’s- that’s sweet and all, but- like, what?” Dirk was still struggling to understand this. It was still fucking baffling.
“Well, I think--” Jake said, and then he snapped his fingers and blinked out of existence. Out of Dirk’s dream, so it seemed. The Jake-shaped space he left behind started to suck the scenery in like a rip in spacetime.
Yeah. Alright. This might as well happen.
Dirk allowed himself to get sucked into the space, and woke up.